Moon Shine
by Blaise O'Connor
Summary: REPOST: The story of Blaise O'Connor & Riley  from SuzSinger's What Must Come First  dealing with the Winchester men  and the drama that follows them .
1. Chapter 1

_**Moon Shine**_

_Hello there! My Name is Em (previously Emmeline's Embers), and this is the repost of my FIRST story ever on fanfiction (I think, it might have been Ember), and I'm reposting every chapter written for your enjoyment. Hopefully, that'll mean quick updates._

**Warning: I am from the south, and so are my characters. There will be "y'all" and "ain't" thrown around quite a bit in my dialogue, even if I myself would never say it.**

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><p>The moonlight shows everything for what it really is. During the night time, the Moon's Kingdom, people do their evil deeds with misfortune and secrecy. Secrets rein in this Kingdom with the affairs of others, mingling, fusing together in a midnight dance.<p>

For a hunter such as herself, it is the time when the publics' prying eyes, clouded with the ignorance of denial towards what is really in bumping in the dark, do not touch her so freely.

Even with this supposed moonlight cover, Blaise, who knew the moonlight for what it really was, continued to cover her tracks with lies and precaution; a last ditch attempt at safety for herself and her sister. They knew full well what law enforcement could do to them for digging up bodies and burning them with salt.

"Alright, after the fire goes out we need to put the dirt back." Blaise cut her eyes over to her companion, "Think we got enough time to roll the sod back in place before sun rise?"

Blaire looked at her phone screen with distain before she nodded, "Well, it's only two. Ought to be done an' out of here with plenty of time for a shower before we gotta get the hell out of Dodge."

Blaise, who was covered in dirt from head to toe, only nodded her head as she fixed her long red hair into a pony tail at the crown of her head, the layers falling stubbornly towards her face, the shovel supported under her elbow. "Then let's roll. I wanna be home in time for Mom's home cooking and Blaine getting his ass kicked into next Sunday."

The other girl smirked, "Right?"

They climbed out of the deep, dark hole only to fill their shovels once again with dirt, flinging it back into the grave. There was always left over dirt. It never goes back in the way it comes out, the Earth's natural packing process never one to be replicated.

"Think Maw will invite Bobby over?" Blaire lifted her left eyebrow mischievously towards the older girl, an evil glint in her eyes that twinkled with the moonlights' influence. "You know they're sweet on each other!"

Blaise stood up a little straighter, expression stoned to an unearthly calm, continuing to dig like she had not heard her.

"What's the matter?"

She sighed, "Nothing. I just don't understand why you are so eager to get her partnered off with someone else. She's perfectly fine by herself."

"Blay, she isn't and you know it. Ever since Dad took off with that woman she's been lonely. I know you see that." Blaire nudged her sibling with her elbow between scoops of dirt, her thick southern accent enhancing itself with the words she had pressed through her teeth. "Don't you want her to be happy?"

Blaise stopped mid dig to look at her sister with an irked expression, "You're kidding right? I'm perfectly fine with her being with other men. Dad has been gone far too long for me to even care anymore." Eyes rolled as anger flashed in her midnight blue eyes, "It's _him_ that I have a problem with."

While Blaise did not have an accent, her time traveling around the country before the birth of her sister had beat it out of her, she could accentuate words as well as her Memphis breed sibling. Chills ran down spines when she hissed the pronoun, the evil she was exposed to at an early age presenting itself clearly. "I have a bad feeling about _him_. He will bring something bad with him in his luggage, I can feel it."

She had to laugh out loud at her sister. Blaise always had these "funny feelings" about things and people, but she shouldn't really find humor in this. Every one of them had come true so far.

A green screen door pulled open, footsteps echoed through the yellow house in a country, home-like way. Shouts ran out, welcoming and loving, littered with happiness and laughter.

"Blay! Blaire Bear!" More footsteps, quicker this time, beat on the ancient but well kept hard wood floor. "There are my baby girls! How convenient of you two to show up at dinner time!" Hands propped on her hips, the forty-six year old gave her daughters a stern look of a mother, "Apparently neither of y'all were bothered enough to pick up a phone to warn your poor, unsuspecting mother! I would ask if you were raised by wolves but I already know the answer."

Blaire pulled her lips over her teeth in a sheepish smile, ducking as she passed her mother, leaving the blame to the older female.

"Aw, Mom, I'm sorry. My phone is dead and I was in a hurry to get my **BACK STABBING **teenage sister back home to our _poor, unsuspecting_ mother." She smiled before backing out her mothers' failed attempt at a hug. "So what did we miss, Sandra Faye?"

Sandra rolled her eyes at her eldest as she turned around, walking to the kitchen while talking over her shoulder, "Nothing much. The heat has been _unreal_,"

"Then you shouldn't be making up lies mother!"

Pointedly ignoring the comment, Sandra turned into the kitchen filled with warm aromas of home cooking only a southern kitchen could produce, "And Bobby has been helping Blaine with his aim."

Now it was Blaise would chose to ignore pointedly, an awkward silence permeating throughout the sunshine colored room.

Sandra Faye coughed, covering her mouth with her hand, "So, how 'bout staying the night Blay? I doubt you want to drive all the way to Millington tonight with all the commotion going on."

"Yeah, I'll stay. I doubt Dad will mind feeding Midnight for one more day." Blaise rolled her eyes when her mothers' back stiffened at one word. "But we still have to settle one argument: my birthday."

Sandra whirled around, a nasty gleam in her eyes as they focused on the red head, her black hair stopping its movement seconds after the rest of her body. "Must we have this argument every year? Why on Earth must you insist on not celebrating? Your brother and sister don't mind, why do you?"

"Maybe it's because they are teenagers. Adding stupidity and your brainwashing into the mix just leaves them obedient and boring." She winked at her mother, "You know that's just not my style. Face it, Hun, you'd be bored to tears if you didn't have your Bastard Child to contradict you."

"Blaise Emmeline! Don't you speak about that in my house, girl! I'll wipe that big brain of yours straight off your head, you know I will." Sandra cut her eyes at the offender while she stirred the mash potatoes with an egg beater. "Just because you're turning twenty eight does not mean you're immune to an ass whoopin'!"

Blaise couldn't help but laugh at her mothers' threats. She knew that she'd follow them through if provoked, she being the only child to actually make her mom mad enough to actually do it, more than once, would know. Rebellion was one thing that always showed itself among her characteristics as she grew up.

"Just like your father!" Sandra Faye muttered, catching the girls' undivided attention. "Those damn thick Irish roots only showed up in you! It couldn't have been my Cherokee ones like your brother and sisters have, no!" She beat the mash potatoes harder, bringing the bowl to her chest before she spoke up, stating a clear, "Just because I wasn't married to Sully when you were born doesn't make you a 'Bastard Child,' as you so crudely put it!"

"A child born out of wedlock is a 'Bastard,' mother."

"Don't argue with me Emmeline! You are having a birthday party and that is the end of it!"

"Fine, but if you want me there you'll have to drag me, because I will not go willingly."

Sandra Faye's eyes narrowed to slits as she thought of ways to ensure her daughters presence. "You know, Bobby has two nephews who owe him some favors. Strong hunter boys, the way I hear it, and I bet you they could drag you here, willing or not."

Determination shown through midnight blue orbs strongly, a left eyebrow raise defiantly. "Bring it on, Mother."

"Maw," the squeaky, choir boy like voice shouted from the staircase as footsteps frantically rang throughout the yellow house. "Is Blaise really here?"

The look of surprise made the moment unforgettable to her, just like the other times she had come back home. Her little brother adored her, something she was sure would disappear after puberty, and he tried his hardest to get her to move back in with them. Something that probably would end with more pain than a happy family should create.

"Blainy, baby!" Blaise rose from her seat at the table to hug the smiling little boy, savoring the moment and reserving it for a rainy day. "Did you honestly think I'd miss your first football game? What kind of older sister would I be?"

"A typical one," his brown eyes rolled, looking so much like her in that moment, the familiar facial expressions made it so that her reflection was staring back at her. "But, I'm glad you're not like that, _Emmeline._"

"Oh, hush now, Blaine _Thierry_." Blaise accentuated with a fake French accent as thick as Charlemagne himself. "So, how has your aim been coming along?"

A blush spread thick over his skin as his lips pulled sheepishly over his braces, "Good, I guess. Bobby has been helping me. He even let me borrow his .45!"

Blaise had to tightly control the frown that tried to form on her pink lips, "Is that so?"

"Yeah! I shot a bull's eye the other day, honest! It's hanging up on the ceiling in my room. Bobby let me use the nail gun to hang it, too." The boy's enthusiasm almost reached her before he decided to add in an excited, "And, he's coming to dinner tonight, too!"

Her back stiffened to a point of pain, eyes closed, fist balled together, and forced breath came through flared nostrils as she counted to ten, the gun tucked into her waistband itching to be drawn. She couldn't help the narrowed eyes aimed precisely at Sandra Faye with absolute distain.

_How can one person be so manipulative without actually being a demon? _

"Emmeline, don't you give me that look. I am the adult here and I make the decisions. I would say that if you don't like it you can live with your father, but last time you took me up on the offer." She put the freshly fried okra on a paper towel covered plate, "You need to control that anger! It's the Devil's work, I tell you!"

Sandra Faye looked at her cross hanging next to the doorway, sending a silent prayer upwards before turning back towards her eldest, "Now, sit your ungrateful ass down at the table. You _will_ be civil tonight, Emmeline."

While it was rebellion that pumped through her veins when she saw a stop sign, it was unadulterated mutiny at the dinner table.

Blaise and Sandra Faye have never gotten along. This was a known fact from the second Sandra first held the baby in her eighteen year old arms. From that moment on it was worse than an uphill battle while tied to boulders being pulled in the opposite direction by elephants.

When Sandra Faye prayed for patience and strength, Blaise argued hypocrisy. While Sandra could not tell a believable lie, even to herself, Blaise fabricated full proof stories convincingly and without fail.

Blaise ran her fingers through Blaine's black hair idly as she remained stiffened. "When will he be over, Blainy?"

Sandra Faye spoke up from the kitchen counter, her long, shining black hair swaying in its ponytail, her movements constricted to the stove top area as she stirred purple hull peas. "He should be showing up anytime with our other guests."

"Thank you, _Blaine_ for the answer," her words biting deep into the rivets of the tense conversation, even when her interest was piqued at the mention of other guests. "I truly appreciate it."

"Hello, Bobby!" Sandra Faye took light, lady like steps towards him to give him a dainty hug. "I trust y'alls trip was well?

Bobby grinned sheepishly at her, his eyes crinkling in delight as he took of his hat, "Yes, ma'am." He wrapped his burly arms around her slender waist as he turned them around to the two men standing awkwardly behind him in the doorway, catching Emmelines' grimace as he did so. "I would like you to meet Sam and Dead Winchester."

Hand gestures were made, warm smiles, all fake, were pushed around like a typical southern introduction.

When they finally stepped into the house, looking around politely as possible, they finally noticed her and Blaine sitting at the antique wooden table.

They couldn't do anything before Sandra's overly warm voice met her ears like the biggest "fuck you," in Tennessee. "Blaise can you please go get your sister and wash up for dinner?"

Translation: "Get your ass upstairs and change. You look like a fucking hooker, trollop."

"Why, yes, mother dearest, I would _absolutely love_ to." A smile and a wink graced her pretty face as she got up from the chair and walked towards the stairs.

Translation: "I'm going to kill you in your sleep and sell your body to science for that."

The boys smiled at the southern belle as they sat at the long table, watching as she placed the food in the center of the table with lusty eyes.

"Now, boys, this is Blaine, my youngest," Sandra waved an elegant hand towards the ten year old. "The girl that just left is my eldest, Emmeline…"

"Mom, the last thing I need is for more people to call me by my middle name." Blaise called from her position at the foot of the stairs, Blaire standing close behind. She walked over, her cowboy boots clicking on the hardwood, calmly extending her hand out towards Sam Winchester in a way that any feminist would be extremely proud of.

"Hi. My name is Blaise." She switched to shake Dean's hand as soon as she was done with the other boy. "It's nice to meet you!"

Sandra Faye put her hand on her eldest daughters' neck, slyly pinching her with a smile as she stepped on her foot. "And, this is my other daughter, Blaire."

The Winchester boys honestly looked like they were trying to ignore the tension in the room. Well, at least they tried. Dean smirked and gave a poorly hidden suspicious look towards them, while Sam just smiled and nodded.

"So what do you boys do? For a living, I mean."

Plates clinked together as food was passed around, the evening prayer finally finished, and food was being shoveled onto the plates all around.

Sam Winchester covered his mouth with a hand, covering a cough while Dean looked at Bobby, the question in his eyes.

Bobby sat up straighter in his chair, "Well, they are hunters like you. I guess I forgot to mention that?"

Blaise snorted, relief flooding through her as she slouched a little, finally able to get in a comfortable position. "Thanks for telling us," her eyes rolled at the situation. "How long have you been huntin'?"

An eyebrow lifted at her before Dean swallowed his mouth full of food, "As long as we can remember. You?"

She couldn't help but smirk at his horribly covered cocky attitude, but only because she saw through it. "O' Connor family tradition, actually; basically since I could hold a gun."

Sandra Faye laughed an incredibly fake laugh, trying not to show her embarrassment. "Her father wanted her to do it, and by the time I knew to stop it she was already grown." She daintily shook pepper onto her mashed potatoes, "But, as you can see, Blaire and Blaine were not raised that way."

"Even though they want to," all the children rhythmically recited together.

"Which reminds me, Blaise," Blaire finally spoke up from her corner seat, "If you want to, I can find another hunt on the web for us to go on!"

Sandra's eyes rolled at the fourteen year old, "Blaire, you just got back from one. You need to rest up and go school shopping with me and your brother before you go trudging across country with a crazy person."

Blaise sent a small smile Blaire's way, a wink communicating that she would be alright.

"Hmm," Dean swallowed his last mouth full. "That was incredible, Sandy!"

Sandra's eyes focused on the man before a smile lit her slightly wrinkling face, "So, since you're done eating, tell us more about yourselves."

The mental wall that locked itself in his mind almost made an actual sound. He set his jaw at them as he gave a fake smile. Blaise wondered if the non-hunters at the table could see the microscopic change, too.

A hug around the waist, another on her shoulders from behind begging her to stay the night as she pulled the added weight to the front door. It would not stop her from leaving, no matter how much they wanted it.

"Blay, please, you have to stay! You said earlier that you would!" A squeaky, whiny voice mingled with its sisters, tangling in a mess of "please," and attempted bribes from the ten and fourteen year olds.

"Guys, I have to get home! You wouldn't want my cat to die of starvation, would you?"

"Fuck, Midnight! She is perfectly capable of feeding herself!"

Blaise rolled her eyes with exasperation at the comment. The real reasons she was not staying were not nearly as simple. "Look, you Munchkins, I want to stay, honest, but you don't want mom and I to have another one of _those_ fights, do you? Remember how hard it was for me to visit last time? I could only come over and see my two favorite people in the whole wide world when she wasn't here!"

The sound of laughter broke out, pitching higher until it hit the ceiling. A quick kiss was planted on both foreheads along with a hug and she was gone. She'd volunteered her house, which had a spare room with two twin beds, to the Winchesters.

Blaise opened the door of her Chevy Cameo fully with her knee as she threw her messenger and duffel bags in the floor board of the passenger seat, balancing haphazardly on one foot. As she set the other foot on the on the ground she lifted the other duffel filled with weapons while she popped the trunk.

"Yo, Winchester!" Blaise called out towards the yellow house, "What kind of driver are you?"

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><p>Please review, and I'll put up a new chapter every day or two to keep you sated.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

**Moon Shine**

_A lot happens in this chapter, so I hope you'll all be happy with the update. _

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><p><em>"Yo, Winchester!" Blaise called out towards the yellow house, "What kind of driver are you?" <em>

Dean stepped towards the trunk of her car with a smirk present on his lips, "Why do you ask?" He couldn't help a good flirt when he saw one, and the fact that he'd been polite and proper the whole entire dinner wasn't helping, either.

She smiled at the man, her layers moving in the Memphis breeze, as she closed the lid of the trunk with a cocky lean of her hips, "Because I honestly don't want to lose you on the back roads."

"Oh, you think you can lose me?"

"Oh, doll," Blaise smiled knowingly. "I know I can. My car accelerates faster than your relic."

Dean's face hardened quickly as the words left her mouth, "I know you did not just insult my car."

Blaise smiled at him, "It was not an insult, simply a statement that a seventy six Chevy Camaro, with an engine my father and I personally rebuilt, is faster than a sixty seven, sixty eight Impala."

"It's a sixty seven! If you don't know enough about cars to tell that, then you have no right to talk at all!" Dean pouted.

Sam appeared behind Dean, "It's probably true, Dean." Smiling at Blaise, he felt a connection to her running away from her mother's opposition, offering up a helping hand with her stuff. He couldn't be more welcoming towards her rebellious, friendly, overwhelmingly cultured, yet some how reckless, personality. "Mr. Winchester, would you like to ride in a car with actual seat belts?" She mainly asked just to get on Dean's nerves, watching him walk over to his car and get in. How could she pass up a good thing when it was laid out in front of her so blatantly?

Sam Winchester walked to the driver's side window of the Impala, leaning over and tapping on the glass to catch the attention of his brother.

Dean rolled down the window with a look that clearly questioned his brothers' sanity. "Dude, what the hell? Get in the car."

"I'm going to ride with Blaise, actually."

Dean couldn't help the sudden widening of his eye lids at these words, clearly amused. "You're really going to tap that? Dude, get some!"

Sam just shook his head at his siblings one track mind, choosing not to comment; just walking away. How can you respond to that without sounding like an offended three year old?

He soon found himself opening the passenger side door of the Camaro, folding his tall form into the small opening expertly. He looked at the interior with slight interest. It was clean; the bags that previously sat in the floor board had been moved to the trunk for him, a portable cup holder clipped to the dash in a clever way, and it purred evenly as she cranked it.

Too bad she drove like a raging lunatic. Honestly, it's worse than Deans' any day. Between the shifting, lane changing, and extreme speeds Sam had concluded that she was truly born hunter material: fucking crazy. He kept a look out for the Impala in the left side view mirror as they accelerated over ninety eight on a curvy, two lane back road with well kept pavement and little traffic. But, that didn't make him as nervous as it did when she exited off in urban area, only barley slowing down to seventy before turning at a rail road crossing.

They passed a ball park, turning left at the end of the street after a quick break at a stop sign, before turning and driving the two hundred feet to the next one. At this point Blaise had slowed down to twenty, leaning forward over the steering wheel to watch the truck on the left to pass. "Nice neighborhood."

She smiled at him as she turned onto another street, only to turn left onto on of the several streets named for local Indian tribes. "Why, thank you. I thought so," she rolled her eyes as she pulled into the driveway of a two story tan house on the left side, about at the halfway point down the long line of houses.

She pushed a button, effectively opening the two car garage.

Blaise and Sam opened their doors to watch Dean pull into the spot next to the kitchen door. They could clearly see the irritation written with a metaphorical sharpie, bright red on his forehead.

She had been right; the modified Camaro was faster than his baby. That, and Blaise O' Connor drove like she was on drugs. "Isn't the back of my baby pretty, Dean?" She smiled innocently at him before taking her keys to the lock.

Both of the brothers looked around at the garage. The ceiling was a giant devils trap, the walls lined with tool chests neatly packed and put away, a gun case cleverly hidden next to the door Blaise had just opened.

"Welcome to my house, boys. Please," Blaise gestured with her hands at the room. "Make yourselves at home. I just have one rule, and I'd appreciate it if you could follow it."

Blaise turned towards both boys who stared at her intently. She took a deep breath, analyzing the expressions on their handsome faces with the sharp eyes of a hunter. They seemed like they were paying attention to her, probably analyzing her like she was doing to them at that exact moment. "No matter what, and under any unpermitted circumstances, are you to let the cat outside."

The elegant snort that came from Dean let her know that they had heard her as she turned into the living room to turn on the lights. She was greeted by empty alcohol bottles and a passed out, red headed man lying on her couch.

Pinching the bridge of her nose just made her irritation grow. How hard can it be to throw something away when you are done with it?

"Dad! Wake up, I'm back." Blaise sat down in a clear spot of carpet beside the couch, her knees up and held in place by her out stretched arms. "Dad, will you please wake up? You need to either you get up and go to _your_ house next door or I'll have to drag you to your bed again."

**"Alright," **Blaise shut the door to her garage, bags in her hands. "Now, guys, I have to formally introduce you to my cat."

Dean looked her like she had lost her mind while Sam simply furrowed his eyebrows. They had never been formally introduced to an animal of any sort. How can you formally introduce yourself to a cat, anyway?

Blaise simply walked past them with her luggage, heading for the stairs. She took them two at a time, with the grace only a hunter could pull off: an awkward one.

As she placed the items on her queen sized mattress her eyes scanned the room, looking for any type of disruption when a gray cat seemingly flew on top of the covers with such effortlessness. The paw that came to rest on Emmeline's hand stopped all moment in the room, all the attention focused on Midnight. "What's the matter, baby?"

The cat's tail waggled towards the closet before she jumped off the bed.

Taking the hint, Blaise went towards the closet doors, slowly opening them before her face lit up in a thousand watt smile, taking up her whole face. "Aw, Mid, where did you find it? You're amazing."

Blaise picked up the black leather form fitting jacket (that was covered in cat hair, unsurprisingly enough) and headed down stairs.

The carpet on the stairs was the same beige as the rest of the house, only save the one bathroom and kitchen. There were no pictures anywhere in the house, leaving it with an empty and lonely feeling.

One hand graced the banister as she used the other to pick up the feline. "Winchesters, Midnight. Midnight, Winchesters." She set the cat on the counter with a smile.

The Winchester's once again looked at Blaise as if she was crazy, truly starting to see why Sandra fought her all the time.

**Blaise** put Midnight down on the mattress, climbing inside the protection her comforter brought. She had already carried her drunken father to his yellow and green house next door, tucking him into his futon lovingly.

Her stealth skills had allowed her to climb the stairs without disturbing the already sleeping Winchesters. They had used up all of her hot water and were content to sleep it off.

Blaise smiled as she heard nothing from her home, the air calm. She wasn't one for praying, her daydreams spread like wildfire during dinner blessings every night, but she sent a silent hope heavenward that it would stay that way; if just for a night.

**The** stairs creaked, the front door banged against the siding at her front porch repeatedly with the wind, and the air had turned to electricity as the intruders came up the stairs.

Her .45 came out from under her pillow with the same magic that made her machete reveal itself from her night stand drawer. She opened the window to offer up a last resort escape for her feline friend before she silently moved to kneel next to the door, salt drenched iron rounds ready inside the Automatic Colt Pistol. Blaise tried to stop her shaking hands, already sick to her stomach at the possibilities her mind's eye afforded her.

"_Ready or not, Emmeline, here I come."_ The eerily familiar voice filtered through the hollow wooden door into her ear. She knew that voice somewhere, maybe one of the few demons that got away from the early years of her hunting career?

The door swung off of its hinges, the wood of the frame splintering into a half dozen pieces. Blaise brought her gun up to the meat suits crotch, blowing a whole into the carcass before her machete started to cut the legs into six blood drenched clumps on the floor. It wasn't easy, and she was pretty sure the vibrations almost shook her arm out of socket.

She stood up, legs braced on the ground even as they shook, her gun staying trained in between the black inkwell eyes, finger on the trigger. "You should know better than to wake a lady. We aren't morning people," her voice almost wavered from the disgust of what she had done. Blood poured out of the demons mouth as he smiled, the black smoke leaving his eyes to travel out of his mouth and ears.

Cuss words ran out of her mouth as she took the stairs two at a time, ready to find the son of a bitch. Dozens of demons had been stuffed quietly into her tiny downstairs living room, crammed like Sardines into her kitchen, and about to knock down the door of her guest bedroom where the Winchesters slept.

"In nomen of Senior of Populus, everto peto abyssus!" Blaise held up her gun, machete ready in her hand. There were too many demons around her, she knew that, but she also knew she'd go out with a bang if she could get all of her Latin out without fucking it up.

"Winchesters! Wake your lazy asses up! I could really use your help," the demons started towards her, making leaping bounds from their perches.

She emptied her magazine in each of the demons cold dead hearts as her machete deemed their meat sacks' limbs useless. Who needs to feel their arms, anyways? She stepped over the dead bodies as the black smoke emptied itself out of the bloodied mouths, going towards the bedroom door. "Rise," Blaise banged the hilt of her weapon against the hollow wooden door. "And, shine, boys. Day's startin' early." She went to the end table drawer and quickly replaced her magazine, grabbing the pocket knife stored there. Blaise could only hope they were as good as they sold themselves to be.

The door swung open as a groggy looking Dean pointed a gun in her direction, "What the hell was all that?" He took one look at Emmeline, seeing her loading herself down with weaponry, all the hacked up bodies on the ground with escaping black smoke still pouring out, and knew to get moving.

"Blay!"

Blaise Emmeline's face turned to stone as her father's strained voice called through the solid wood door. The pain was so evident in his voice that anyone could tell he'd been tortured, even through the thick, red front door. "Blay, hunny, why don't you come out and play with your father and I? We're having so much fun."

Dean looked up at Blaise as he laced his boots, watching as she visibly worked her locked jaw, her hand squeezing the handle of her .45 as she crept towards the door; looking around before she motioned for the Winchester men to be ready. The flood gate was about to open.

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><p><em>Alright, and that's that. Took me a quick minute to revise everything, but it's all good now. Review, please!<em>


	3. Chapter 3

**Moon Shine**

_This chapter introduces Riley from SuzSinger's What Must Come First. _

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><p>The smell of fresh flowers, cut from the prime of life, permeated through the stale air of the funeral home. The sound of an piano playing, prerecorded for occasions such as this, drifted through the air in a way that sounded hideous to her.<p>

It sickened her to have to stand in a black dress and shake hands with her father's sort of loved ones. They only showed up because of the free food and a day off work. _How dare they pretend to care._

They weren't affected like she and her family were. None of them had to see her father drink himself to the brink of death, only to be brought back to reality by the demon holding the knife. They didn't have to pull the trigger that ended his pain. _How dare they pretend to care._

Her mother turned up, fifteen minutes late, in her Sunday best and crocodile tears galore. She even had the audacity to give a speech at the wake. _How dare she pretend to care._

The Winchester men, dressed in black, sat in the last pew with their unfathomable thoughts. They tried to judge her when she put a bullet in her fathers head. They looked at her as if she had sprouted horns when she held back her tears. And they stayed back as she laid into the hoard of demons that lay in her wake, almost killing herself. _How dare he care._

Blaise tapped the toe of her heeled leather boots on the cheap carpet, breathing in a supposedly calming breath as she repeated the Wiccan Rede in her head. Over and over again like a damaged record. " Bide within the Law you must, in perfect Love and perfect Trust. Live you must and let to live, fairly take and fairly give. For tread the Circle thrice about to keep unwelcome spirits out. To bind the spell well every time, let the spell be said in rhyme. Light of eye and soft of touch, speak you little, listen much. Honor the Old Ones in deed and name, let love and light be our guides again. Deosil go by the waxing moon, chanting out the joyful tune. Widdershins go when the moon doth wane, and the werewolf howls by the dread wolfsbane. When the Lady's moon is new, kiss the hand to Her times two. When the moon rides at Her peak then your heart's desire seek. Heed the North winds mighty gale, lock the door and trim the sail. When the Wind blows from the East, expect the new and set the feast. When the wind comes from the South, love will kiss you on the mouth. When the wind whispers from the West, all hearts will find peace and rest. Nine woods in the Cauldron go, burn them fast and burn them slow." Blaise let out a breath, her whispered words leaving her out of breath as she tried to be calm. "When misfortune is enow wear the star upon your brow. Be true in love this you must do unless your love is false to you. These Eight words the Rede fulfill: 'An Ye Harm None, Do What Ye Will'," Blaise skipped to the ending, knowing it was wrong.

Over and over like a never ending marry go round. Her thoughts bubbled and layered over each other as her anger rose like wildfire through the California trees.

She opened one eye at the sound of a clearing throat, her anger rising faster at the impatient face of her father's sister. She had an eye brow raised expectantly, like it was Blaise's fault the casket was closed. _How dare this bitch pretend to care._

Blaise raised her head, looking over the crowds of people to see her mother's fake tears, the people laughing together in groups as they waited for the ceremony to start. They looked so happy to be there all of the sudden. Like it was some holiday and it was Blaise's job to entertain them. _How dare these fucking people! _

"**Get out!" **She looked around at the shocked faces of the crowd, analyzing every opened mouth, wide eye, and raised eyebrow in the place. "**I said, 'get out!' You people didn't care about him! Get out! Feed your own damn selves and go back to work you sniffling ingrates! How fucking **_**stupid**_** are you? GET OUT!" **

They stood, unmoving, as they looked upon her like she'd lost her sanity. Like she ever had it.

Blaise Emmeline pulled out her gun from the thigh holster, flashing her knickers as she took the safety off, pointing it at the now stampeding people.

She pointed the gun at her mother, who was trying to run in her ridiculously tall stilettos, "Not you, Mother _dearest._ You stay right where you are."

"Now, Emmeline jus-"

"My name is _not _Emmeline!" The wild look in her eyes did not compare the rage bubbling inside of her. It made Dante's brimstone lake look like summer vacation.

"I know your name! I named you!" Sandra Faye stepped towards Blaise, intent on scolding her like she had when she was younger, thinking that her own daughter would never shoot her _loving_ mother.

But she was wrong.

Blaise hit the handle of her gun across Sandra's face, kicking her into a sitting position on the padded pew. She couldn't care less as her mother's tears ran down her face, rubbing her cheek in pain as the bruise already started to arise.

"Emmeline, how could you?" Sandra looked up at her lunatic daughter, and down the barrel of the gun. Now she was scared.

Dean and Sam, whom had stood motionless and wide eyed at the last pew started forward with cautious hands in the air. They couldn't understand why she treated her mother this way. They wished for a mother everyday of their lives that would hold them when they needed it. _How could she do this?_

"Blaise, why don't you put the gun down?" Sam stepped closer, but carefully stayed out of reach, trying to get behind her. He knew that in a crazed state she would do something she would regret. Or not regret (but still illegal).

"Look, you're a little off your rocker right now, so why don't you put the gun down? We can settle this th-" Dean was interrupted by the double doors being slammed open as two blondes walked into the room. They were dressed for a funeral in their Sunday best, but the little one just rolled her eyes at the red head, taking in the appearance of the tall man in front of her.

The older girl looked at the crazy person with narrowed eyes: her best friend was in one of _those _moods again.

"Aye, bitch! Settle down and throw me the gun!" She smirked as she saw Blaise smile, her mischievous side regaining some semblance of brain cells as she lowered the gun to her side. "Now, where exactly is the fun in that, Riley?"

"Yeah, yeah, dead daddy. Not supposed to be fun, so come over and give me a hug, Bizitch!" Riley held her arms open towards Blaise, her smile widening even further as her best friend ran towards her.

They had been together since Riley's eighteenth birthday, and had survived much together. From hunting, to the death of her parents, and now the death of Blaise's father. Their bond seemed to grow stronger with time and stress. The more baggage added the better. Like spandex.

"Blaise," Riley spoke into her best friends' red clad shoulder with a sigh as she pulled her closer.

"What?" Blaise rested her forehead on Riley's thick golden locks. They smelled like cheap, heavily scented motel shampoo. It was a nice smell, one that she'd missed from their time apart. Hopefully it would never be that long again.

"Are you wearing _my_ red trench coat?" Riley pulled back to look at Blaise, her hands firmly secured on the taller woman's shoulders.

Blaise smiled sheepishly towards the blonde, an awkward cough escaping her lips as she seemed to literally shrink away from Riley. "_No! _I would _never _steal your clothes after I promised not to ever again."

"Honest," she stepped away.

"Hey, that's my necklace!" Riley looked at Blaise with her eyebrows raised as she folded her arms across her chest. She knew she had Blaise stuck in a lie: she knew it the second she walked in.

Riley always was the smarter of the two, and she knew it. She was the Brain, and Blaise was a more violent, pathologically lying Pinky. And it would always be that way.

Riley looked at the closed casket with sadness, the three A.M. phone call from a frantic Blaise had informed her every detail of his death, as she blinked away the slight moisture forming in her eyes. She knew that Blaise was never going to forgive herself for ending his pain, but she'd be damned to admit it.

Blaise turned towards the casket, whispering a quick, "Bye, Daddy," before she locked arms with Riley and they walked towards the red truck together. Right now, avoiding the death topic was what was best for her. And Riley knew it.

They stepped into the almost empty diner as laughter bubbled towards their throats. The clicking of their heels on the linoleum only seemed to encourage the two more as they walked towards the red and brown booths.

"Oh, look at the cook! Kind of cute, don't you think?" Riley elbowed Blaise as the two settled into their side of the booth, waiting for the Winchester brothers to do the same. "You need to get laid, Hun."

Blaise laughed at Riley as she rested her head on the girls' shoulder. She looked over towards the cook, who was staring at the two as he flipped pizza dough. "Nah, look at those scrawny legs. Would never work out."

Riley leaned over to have a look, a frown appearing on her face as she noticed the hair seeping over the man's socks. "Ew, and hairy, too. Don't blame you, babe."

The bells at the door chimed, and an irritated looking Addie, Riley's kid sister, walked into the building holding a sack filled with energy drinks. She threw Riley a glare as she pulled up a chair in front of the booth to sit down. She was ordered to keep her mouth shut and away from the grieving red head for the time being, to avoid the arguments they usually partook in.

Riley looked at Addie with an apologetic look as she stroked Blaise's red mane of hair before reaching forward towards the sack, intent on grabbing the best one.

Blaise reached her hand in the sack just as Riley did, the arms going to war as they reached for the green drink. They battled over it until an impatient Addie pulled the sack away, ripping their arms from the plastic.

"Idiots," She set one can out before reaching for a second identical can in the plastic depths. "I knew you two would act like preschoolers."

They both smiled sheepishly like Cheshire Cats towards the teenager as they both reached for the closest monster with lightning fast reflexes.

As soon as the drinks were opened Riley let out a contented sigh, her stretching foot accidentally touching Dean's under the table.

She raised an eyebrow as Dean bumped her foot in return, lightly pushing her foot to the side with a nonchalant expression present on his features.

"Come on, Sammy, let's go play the games. You too, Addie," Blaise winked at Riley as she got up, gesturing for her two victims to get a move on. _After all, best friends are glorified wing men, right?_

"Oh, Sammy, nice gluteus maximus!" Blaise put her arm on Sam's shoulder as they walked, winking yet again.

"Don't call me 'Sammy'."

"Okay, Samuel." Blaise smiled as she put the quarter in the Galaga machine, watching Addie and Sam play against each other with a smile gracing her red lips.

"So, Winchester." Riley spoke as she fit the boot clad foot again under the table top. "Don't you have better things to do than to follow a lunatic around?"

"Aye, hoe, I heard that!" Blaise called from across the building. "And I love you, too!"

Riley smiled as she saw Blaise's middle finger held up in her direction. Her smile became wider as a foot once again bumped hers under the table. "I do, sweetheart. She just happens to be comin' the same direction as we are."

"Oh, really now?" Riley turned her attention back towards the eldest Winchester, her interest peaked at the mention of him leaving. "And, where would that be, doll?"

Dean sat up a little straighter, fixing his collar, and childishly moving his foot after his last bump. "Going to visit an old friend in South Dakota."

"Is that so?" Riley rolled her eyes as Dean sat his feet on Sam's side of the booth, getting dusty foot prints in the vinyl. "Oh, stop being so damn mean, and put your feet down!"

Dean frowned but did as he was told, slightly off put by Riley's stern voice mixed with her mischievous smirk.

Riley kept a completely calm face, careful not to move her upper body as she placed her foot in between Dean's legs in his seat. She only smiled as his face turned to a worried stone mask. "I don't take kindly to cheaters, Dean."

The eldest Winchester smiled guiltily as he shifted uncomfortably, "Uh, huh."

"Riley!" A scream sounded out, breaking the silence of the night, accompanied by laughter. "Stop it!" Blaise had her pajama bottoms around her ankles, and was in the middle of changing when Riley had decided to trap and pleasantly tickle her.

Riley, whom was busy tickling Blaise's sock covered foot, shook her head, continuing to smile as her best friend squealed in horror. They had just arrived from a bar, that happened to be connected to a strip club, when they decided that being quiet was not on the top of their priority list.

They had finished the hunt in less than a day and were ready to head back to Memphis in the morning. Apparently having four hunters and a fifteen year old on a case made it extremely boring and easy. Who would have known?

Tonight was their last night with the Winchester men before they split ways, and they spent it getting drunk. Far, far away from them. After all, who was going to watch Addie?

Demons, ghosts, ghouls, vampires, and werewolves she could handle, but not a tickle to the sole of her foot. It reduced her to giggling only a little girl could produce.

"Seriously, Riley! Please," Blaise stood, trying to get away as she gasped for breath. "Stop!"

Dean rose into a sitting position, rubbing his face and looking at the clock as he ignored their noise. It read five in the morning, and he was getting too old for this. One look at the two, seeing them both half dressed and in the process of changing in to night clothes, only to made him lose his focus.

Sam groaned, completely exhausted and ready to kill as he pressed his face further into the pillow. _How was he supposed to function with all these crazy people around?_ Addie kept him up talking for most of the night and then these two drunken morons decide to come in.

Blaise giggled, giving up on changing and finally making a run for the bathroom as an attempt to get away from the torture. "You can't catch me, I'm the ginger beard woman!"

Riley laughed, sliding down on top of the mattress next to Dean and continued to laugh herself to sleep, not caring if she was half dressed next to a deviant.

The next morning came to quickly for Sam as he pulled himself up from the mattress and tangled mass of sheets. He didn't quite notice that Blaise was supposed to be laying next to him at first. He just kept moving towards the bathroom area, intent on starting his day with warm water.

Everyone else was still asleep, a half naked Riley next to Dean and Addie on the pull out couch. All sleeping peacefully and quietly as their chests lifted up and down in calm, even breathing.

The atmosphere in the room was the like any other from a typical motel on every other early morning. No one else was awake and the stillness was stifling, an eerie tinge that was almost tangible.

But Sam didn't notice as he walked, in nothing but his boxers and a shirt, through the threshold of the bathroom. He stuck his hand through the still closed tub curtains, turning the hot knob all the way to the left without even opening his eyes.

From there he went to stand in front of the vanity, bracing his palms on the fake marble and listening to the small noises starting coming from the same room. It didn't quite make him aware of the presence at first, only making his eyebrows scrunch together, his eyes still closed.

The shower curtain suddenly pulled open and soaked red hair came into view in the mirror as he opened his eyes, her face covered under her hair and shoulders but she only stood in her underwear. And she looked pissed.

Sam couldn't help but laugh at her, she looked like a drowned cat.

"Winchester!" She screamed, a high pitched sound that seeped through the thin walls and moved towards the ears of the main room's occupants, effectively waking them from their peaceful slumber.

She picked up her bare foot and placed it on the cold linoleum floor while the other, high heel clad, foot soon followed. Her arm came up to push the mass of wet scarlet locks from her face, revealing an extremely tired, angry, sad face. She stopped her screaming to look at him before she threw off her heel and stumbled out.

He stuck his head out of the bathroom to watch her give Riley the finger and walk straight out the front door. In her underwear.

Riley groaned, pulling her face into the pillow she had somehow ended up sharing with Dean. She needed a few more hours, maybe days, of sleep before she dealt with anyone. "Dean," She mumbled, one eye held open against the rough, cheap fabric of the motel pillow. "When she comes back, tell her I was sleep talking. 'Kay?"

Dean nodded, shifting to throw his arm over the girl he was barley listening to and falling back into his deep, midmorning slumber. Today they would leave and not have to worry about crazy people for awhile. He couldn't wait.

* * *

><p><em>Would like to thank SuzSinger for letting me use Riley and Addie. (She's my best friend, and <em>_deserves __her position as such. _


	4. Chapter 4

**Moon Shine**

**There is a part in this chapter written by SuzSinger (thank you) and I will tell you exactly where, so don't worry.**

**BLAISE POV**

I can't believe I'm standing at the counter of a Wal Greens in my underwear. I've never don- never mind. I hadn't done anything that crazy in a whi-nope. That's wrong, too. I haven't ever stepped out of a motel room half naked. There.

Fuck-I must be retarded. No wonder not a soul takes me seriously. People trust me? To protect them?

A useless tear ran down my face before I could wipe it from my cheek. Daddy would lecture me for crying. Got to suck it up.

I held my head up high as I pulled the charge card from my underwear. I'm never going to see these people again. "Rough night?"

The pimply clerk behind the counter smirked as he scanned the cheap dress and breath mints. _Does he want to get murdered?_

"Not as rough as your face. You know they sell acne pads here, right?" Damn it! Now the kid is going to have self esteem problems. Why do I always do this to people? I must be a horrible person. Oh, well.

The kid quieted, holding his head lower in an attempt to keep my attention away from him as he handed me that bag. _That's right, asshole. _

I slipped the dress, which looked more like a long tank top, over my torso and popped three mints. _Today is going to suck._

The automatic doors swung open, allowing my leave and filtering the sultry noon sunlight into my pupils. _Yep, definitely going to suck. _

The motel, roach hell was a few blocks back. A long walk bare footed. _Riley will come get me in a few hours. _I walked over to the park, ignoring the sign telling me not to walk on the grass, and made my way over to the giant playground. _A nice Tunnel Slide nap sounds fuckin' great right now. _

_"Emmeline! Such a potty mouth!" _Mom's voice came through my mouth in a mocking tone before I could stop myself and I couldn't help but shake my head. I do Sandra's voice a little _too_ well.

**"Blaise**! Where are you?" Riley and Addie stuck out their heads in their search for their red headed hangover. After they had finally rolled out of bed around one, with no hunt and a late night they had probable cause, and realized that the fiery red head was no where to be found. Still. "Bitch! Where is you?"

"Well," Addie scoffed, "If she didn't answer to that then I don't know what."

Riley rolled her eyes before she stomped on her brakes. A bare adult foot sticking out from a pastel colored slide caught her attention. _Bingo._

She pulled into a parking lot, the red paint gleaming in the three o'clock sun. Her feet hit the pavement in a flurry of action as she ran over towards the sun bleached slide, coming to a halt, her feet burying themselves in the Pea Gravel.

Riley's arm raised and fell just as quickly onto the plastic, making a resounding snap. The noise forced a waking Blaise to smack her head into the top of the child's toy.

"Fucking shit-ass hell!" Her body twisted around as it came further out of the slide. When she finally made it to her stomach her knees hit rough, textured Pea Gravel. "Ough!"

"Morning Sunshine," Riley beamed down at the girl. "You've been assigned babysitter for the Munchkin and the Nerd. Come on."

She was not lucid enough to argue, so she simply followed Riley's lead to the truck, doing as she was told. "I hate you. Where are you going with Dean?"

"Some ghostly activity is goin' down in Nowheresville, Babe." She sat down in the drivers seat, pushing Addie over. "Addie isn't going and Sam's come down with a migraine." Both Addie and Blaise remained silent until the lights from the Motel, Roach Hell became viable.

**(SuzSinger starting writing here)**

"Bring back food." Addie crossed her arms and decided she wasn't going to win this one.

At the moment, the three girls were thanking god that this motel's bathroom was actually decently-sized. The boys had been exiled to the bedroom, while the girls had taken residency in the bathroom while the two parties got ready for their 'date'.

Riley stood in front of the mirror, curling the tips of her blonde hair, in only her underwear. "I don't know why you're bothering to wear panties. It's not like you're gonna need them, anyway..." Blaise remarked.

Riley glared back at her best friend, flicking her eyes towards her teenage sister, telling Blaise to cool it. Addie, however, wasn't listening, happy with the iPod Sam had lent her. "Isn't Dean's philosophy on panties that they only get in the way?" Blaise added.

Riley glanced at her sister again to make sure she wasn't listening, before she broke out in a grin. "That's why its gonna be a fun date." She replied, and the girls high-fived.

"If only Sammy didn't play so hard to get... Nah, it wouldn't be so fun to chase him otherwise. But I really gotta hankering for some man-giant," Blaise commented.

Riley laughed. "Just tell him that you like puppies, long walks on the beach, and how you went to law school for that semester. You'll have him eating out of the palm of your hand." She replied, moving to put on some make-up.

"So what'd you tell Dean? That you like beers, bars, and babes?" Blaise retorted.

Riley rolled her eyes. "I don't think we'd agree on the gender of said babes. And Blaise, you know me better than that. It's-" "Bacardi Iced Tea Rum." They finished together, grinning at each other.

"Still got that bottle stashed underneath your seat?" Blaise asked, standing up and stretching.

"My emergency bottle? Yeah, always." Riley smirked, slipping the short black dress over her head, smoothing it down over her curves. Riley's head snapped up as Blaise inched towards the door. "Don't you dare touch it, Blaise Emmeline! I don't care if we're best friends or not!" I shouted, and Blaise dropped back into her seat, pouting.

There was banging on the door. "I hope you two aren't having lesbian sex in there! I can't see anything! And I was under the impression I was the only one having sex with Riley tonight!" Dean yelled.

"We only have sex at the right time! It's not the right time!" Blaise shouted back.

Outside the bathroom, Dean and Sam were shaking their heads. "Do you think they're joking?" Dean asked, wrestling with his tie.

Sam shrugged. "I can never tell with those two."

"I wouldn't mind a threesome, ya know?" Dean began, rambling on, ignoring the pissed look on Sam's face. Then he noticed. "Oh yeah. You and Blaise have this thing for each other," Dean remarked.

Sam turned red and began to deny. There was a bang on the bathroom door. "We want Sam too or no dice! Foursome!" Riley yelled from the bathroom.

"Then I guess it's just you and me, sweetheart!" Dean shouted back, automatically. "No offense, Sam, let's just not cross that line," he added, quieter.

"Bummer," they could hear Riley say, genuinely disappointed, from inside, and Sam started to laugh at Dean's face- priceless.

"I can't believe you're doing this, Dean. You've never dressed up for a date before, and definitely not made reservations at a fancy restaraunt." Sam remarked.

Dean self-consciously looked himself over. He was looking good in a pair of black slacks, plain dress shirt, and was in the process of choking himself to death with a tie. "Well, we thought we might as well do the fancy first date thing. It's not like we're paying or anything like that. And we're going to screw, so..." He remarked.

"Ain't that a story to tell the kids." Sam said, sarcastically.

Dean just rolled his eyes and continued trying to tie his tie.

The door of the bathroom opened, and Riley walked out, and Dean's jaw fell open.

Riley smirked, proud of herself. She was wearing a slinky black number that didn't leave much to the imagination, her cleavage was on display, as were her mile-long legs. "Having trouble with your tie, babe?" She asked, taking the tie from Dean's hands, quickly tying it with ease, pretending not to notice his wide open mouth and blinking eyes.

"Wow," was all Dean managed to say. Riley grinned.

"Shall we?" She asked, letting Dean link their arms. He grinned and nodded, leading her to the door. "Oh, and you guys, we'll be sleeping next door tonight." Riley remarked, smiling at their disgusted faces. "Let's go," she told Dean.

"Those two make me want to throw up." Blaise remarked, throwing herself on the bed that Sam had been reclining on.

"Pizza?" Sam queried.

"Agreed," she replied. Blaise waited until Sam got off the phone. "You went to law school, right?" She asked.

Sam's brows furrowed. "Yeah. Why?" He asked.

"I did too. Only for a semester." She replied.

Sam's shocked face was everything. "Really?"

**At the restaurant-**

"We're lucky that they put us in this booth," Riley remarked, leaning into Dean as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"We must really look like that sort of couple. Plus I tipped the guy into giving us something sorta private," Dean replied, pulling Riley tighter against him.

Riley grinned, letting her fingers trace circles on Dean's chest. "How thoughtful," She said, softly. Dean smirked, leaning down to press his lips swiftly against hers, before pulling away to rest his forehead against hers.

"Is that what you were waiting for?" He asked, and Riley smirked, and just pulled him back by tugging on his tie.

Dean was only too happy to oblige, lowering his lips to hers again, wrapping both his arms around her, pulling her taut against his body, as her hands traced his muscled abdomen through his shirt.

The two hunters were glued together by the lips for a good half-hour, until a waiter had built up the courage to interrupt them.

At his insistence, the two broke apart, to regard the waiter with glittering, almost dazed eyes. "Can I take your order?" He requested, hesitantly. They looked at the menus for the first time that night.

"Do ya got burgers?" Dean questioned, and Riley looked up, hopefully.

The waiter frowned. "No," he answered. Both hunters scowled, looking back at the menu.

"I'll get the ravioli, I guess." Riley remarked, finally.

"Steak." Dean added. He flipped a page in the menu. "Bring us the best bottle of champagne you got. And water," he requested, and the waiter nodded, scrawling the order down hastily.

"Anything else?" He questioned.

"No," Riley answered, looking at Dean. "Oh, honey, red isn't your color," she remarked, beginning to wipe her lipstick off his lips. The waiter walked, away, shaking his head.

"I don't think he likes us, babe," Dean remarked, rather enjoying the attention from Riley as she dabbed his face with a napkin.

"Who cares?" Riley replied with a frown.

"What's wrong?" Dean questioned, frowning as well, which made Riley huff, frustratedly, still trying to clean his face.

Dean batted her hand away, stopping her. "Tell me," he demanded.

"As much as I love the thought that went into you taking me here, Dean...this just isn't us. We're the greasy old diner type, remember? Definitely not dressed up and going to a french restaurant, whose bill will cost more than my truck." Riley explained, and Dean just smiled.

"Let's go," he commented, standing.

"What?" Riley asked, confusedly.

"To be honest, I saw a diner on the way here that looked way more appealing than this place," Dean explained.

Riley grinned. "I knew I liked you," she said, letting him pull her to her feet.

Dean just grinned in reply, wrapping an arm around her waist, walking out. They got into the Impala, drove a few miles down the road, and pulled over to a diner. Riley sighed with relief, kicking off her heels. Dean looked at her, curiously. Riley hooked her finger at him, gesturing for him to come closer.

Dean grinned, scooting over the padded bench that was the front seat of the Impala, till he sat next to Riley. She crept closer, kneeling on the seat, and threw one leg over Dean's lap, lowering herself onto his lap, a knee on either side of him. Dean looked like he couldn't believe his luck, his hands sliding from her waist down to cup her ass. "Don't get too excited, babe, this is just the preamble. The big boom's gonna be in our motel room." Riley warned, and Dean nodded, hastily.

"Don't worry, Riles, I can handle it," he assured her, before he crashed his lips into hers. Riley grinned into the kiss, letting her hands pull Dean's shirt from his waistband and unbuttoned his shirt, and let her hands trace the contours of his stomach. Dean made pleased noises, and in turn, he began to drag Riley's dress up, to slip his hands underneath, to run them along her waist, her ass, her legs.

Riley shivered, moaning, as Dean began to kiss her neck, and she buried her hands in his hair. "I take it back. Right here, right now!" Riley remarked, breathlessly, and Dean paused in his kissing of the tops of her breasts.

"We'll wait. Let's eat, and then go," he replied, firmly. Riley groaned, slipping off of Dean's lap, and began to slip her shoes back on.

Dean towed her back, kissing her one more time, before getting out, and walking around the car to open Riley's door. "Maybe we're not the fancy restaurant type, but I think we can do this, at least," Dean remarked, and Riley smiled, accepting his hand to help her to her feet.

"Whatever you say, babe. Let's chow down, and then let's get back. I seriously need to get laid," Riley retorted, and Dean just laughed, and they walked into the diner, hand-in-hand.

Maybe a minute after sliding into a booth together, an older woman, the waitress, came forward. She took in their apparel with surprise. "Come from a party?" She asked.

Riley shook her head. "The French restaurant down the street, actually. No burgers," she explained, sheepishly.

"We were trying the fancy date thing. Didn't work out. Not our style. This is more our speed," Dean went on.

The waitress smiled, warmly. "That's nice to hear. Two burgers, then?" She asked. They grinned at her. "And two beers, please," Dean requested.

"Ooh! And cheese fries!" Riley added, happily. Both people smiled at her, and she looked at them, cluelessly.

"She's a keeper, hun," the waitress told Dean, who smiled at Riley again.

"I know," he replied, slipping his arm around Riley's shoulders, who, in turn, blushed, not knowing what was going on.

"You're so cute!" The waitress cooed, pinching Riley's cheeks. Riley blushed even more as she left, and Dean started to laugh, dragging her into his side.

"What the hell just happened?" Riley demanded.

"You're just too cute, remember?" Dean replied, kissing her gently. Riley only shook her head, and kissing him back, slipping her hand underneath the table to run her hand along Dean's thigh, resting her hand lightly on top of it. Dean smiled, using the arm around her shoulders to pull her closer still, and get her to face him. Riley brought her arms up to lace them around his neck, meeting Dean's lips halfway. They shared a few kisses, before relaxing back in the booth, practically trading places; with Riley lacing her arms around Dean's shoulders, and Dean resting his hand in between Riley's thighs, trading small kisses.

After maybe ten minutes, the waitress returned with their meal, smiling at them like they were the cutest thing she had ever seen. "You know, its always nice to see two people so in love. Are you two newlyweds?" She asked.

Riley and Dean shook their heads, mystified. "Then you must have known each other a long time," the waitress assumed. Again, they shook their heads. "Then you two have something really special. You two act like you're deeply in love. Don't mess it up," she told them, leaving the check before leaving the two alone.

Riley and Dean looked at each other, and kissed once, before eating silently. The awkward silence was broken when Riley spilled the cheese sauce all down the front of her dress, and Dean burst out laughing before he helped her wipe the excess off.

Dean then loosened his tie, and shed his shirt, putting it over Riley's shoulders, leaving himself in only a wife beater.

Riley flashed Dean an adoring look, slipping her arms through the sleeves. "Thank you," she remarked, kissing him, before taking a long sip of beer.

Dean just chuckled again, putting an arm around her shoulders again. "No need to thank me for that till we get back to the motel room. _Then_, you can thank me all you want. Are you done yet?" He retorted, and Riley choked on the her sip of beer, starting to laugh.

"Yeah," She answered, and Dean grabbed the check, pulling out a wad of cash and counted out the money, leaving a sizable tip, which Riley noticed with wide eyes.

"What?" He asked. "She gave us a lot to think about," he explained, and they left, heading out to the Impala, where they went back to the motel, quietly going into their room, next door to the others.

Dean and Riley were both silent as they made themselves comfortable in their room. Of course, that began with them stripping down. Dean was down to his boxers, reclining on the bed, while Riley did the same in the bathroom, complaining of lingering cheese sauce.

Riley made her way out, her ruined dress over one arm, Dean's shirt over her other. She put them down on the table, before continuing over to the bed, where Dean gawked, open-mouthed. Dean scrambled up, sitting on the edge of the bed, in front of where Riley stood. She smiled, nervously, clad only in a matching set of black & pink lace underwear. "You look amazing," Dean uttered, in absolute awe.

Riley's confidence snapped back into place, stepping closer to him, so she stood between his legs, and he rested his hands on her waist.

Riley leaned down to capture his lips with her own, gently wrapping her arms around his neck, entangling her hands in his hair. Dean pulled her tight against him, smirking, pulling her into his lap, a position similar to earlier that night in the Impala. Dean slid his hand up Riley's bare back, making her shiver with delight as they kissed, passionately, and with a flick of his wrist, he unhooked her bra.

With eagerness, Dean helped Riley slide the bra off, and cast it to the floor, and immediately paid attention to his new 'friends'. "I think the girls like me," Dean remarked, a wicked grin on his face, as Riley pressed them against his chest, wrapping her arms around his neck again.

She smirked. "Only one way to find out, babe," She retorted, and rocked her hips against Dean's, and he gave a low moan. "I think your little friend likes me too," Riley went on, chuckling softly. Dean just growled, and flipped Riley onto the bed, pinning her down with his hips against hers, and he bowed down to capture her lips, biting lightly on her lower lip, before swirling his tongue around hers.

Soon, Riley's hands went to Dean's boxers, just as his went to her panties. They winked at each other, at their synchronized lust, before giving in to the carnal pleasures that had been following them ever since their first meeting.

(**This isn't all of what she wrote, but that's in the next chapter.)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Moon Shine**

**Again-written by SuzSinger. All credit goes to her for your torture.**

The next morning-

Dean woke slowly, his arms curled around something radiating heat. Whatever it was, he pulled it closer back into him. As his mind woke, he opened his eyes, finding a halo of blonde hair adorning the pillow he was sharing. _Riley_. He smiled, breathing in the faint scent of vanilla, though the scent that was more prevalent was just plain sex.

Dean had fond memories of last night, and no doubt he would try to repeat them this morning, too. Dean pulled his arms from where they were wrapped around Riley's warm body, sheathed in his dress shirt from the night before. He sat up, gazing down at her.

Riley lay on her stomach, her blonde hair messy and landing everywhere. She was fast asleep, her mouth innocently open in her sleep. The hunter in Dean would've woken up instantly, had Riley pulled away from him, but Riley didn't when Dean did. He just chalked it up to having tired her out that night. Dean got out of bed, stretching before he glanced at the clock. Just past 10:30 in the morning.

Dean leaned over the bed, planting his lips on Riley's forehead. "Wakey, wakey, Riley. We gotta get back to the ol' ball and chains. It's almost 11 o'clock," he called, gently.

Riley groaned, throwing her arm over her eyes. "We didn't say what time." She insisted.

Dean just laughed, and Riley made angry noises, but still accepted a kiss from him. "I'm gonna take a shower. Feel free to sleep until then." He replied, planting an arm on either side of Riley's head, and lowered himself to kiss her a little more deeply this time.

Riley rolled her eyes at him. "You couldn't have woken me AFTER your shower?" She complained.

Dean chuckled and headed to the bathroom. He spent 15 minutes under the hot water, scrubbing himself clean. He dried himself off after, pulling on his boxers. "The shower's free, babe!" Dean called, turning to the mirror to get his hair gelled and spiked. After a few moments, when there was no answer, Dean stopped. "Babe?" He called again. No answer. "Riley?" Dean tried once more. Still, there was no answer, but Dean heard a noise. A squeak. **Something's wrong.**

Dean burst out of the bathroom to find that his suspicions weren't wrong. "Gordon," he growled, finding the dark-skinned hunter straddling Riley on the bed, tying her hands together with a zip cord.

"Dean," the other man replied, smoothly, taking out a wicked blade that he pressed against Riley's neck. Riley squeaked again, and Dean stiffened. Gordon pulled two pairs of handcuffs out with his free hand, and tossed them to Dean. "Cuff yourself to that chair. Or your girlfriend loses her head." He ordered. Dean growled, making fists at his side. "Do it. It'd be a shame to kill her. Such a pretty thing. So much I could do with her," Gordon demanded, pressing the knife harder against Riley's neck, a thin line of blood appearing on her lily-white skin.

Dean did what he was told, cuffing himself to the chair, glowering at Gordon. "What do you want?" Dean questioned, murder in his eyes.

"Give me a moment. We can talk much better if we were face to face." Gordon replied, lifting the knife from Riley's neck, only to jerk her off the bed, before he sat down, pulling Riley into his lap, pressing the knife against her neck again, forcing her head back on his shoulder. "There we are," Gordon said.

"Are you okay, Riley?" Dean questioned her, seeing the bruises forming on her face from her struggle with Gordon.

She cleared her throat. "More or less," she replied, dryly.

"Isn't that sweet? Dean Winchester found someone to play house with. Sounded like you were playing pretty hard last night," Gordon commented, smirking. "But how disappointing to find that you aren't even armed. Easy pickings," he went on, holding Riley tight against his body.

"What do you want, Gordon?" Dean roared, angrily.

"Besides your piece of ass here? I want what I always want. Sam's head on a platter," Gordon replied, and shoved his free hand up Riley's (Dean's) shirt, as if to prove his point.

Dean began to fight against the handcuffs. "Don't touch her!" He yelled, furiously.

All the blood from Riley's face drained, as Gordon's hand cupped and played with her breasts. "No bra? What a pleasant surprise," he uttered, putting the knife down carefully, to jerk her head back by the hair and kissing her roughly, biting down on her lower lip and she cried out in pain.

"You bastard!" Dean growled, as Gordon licked the blood off his lips.

"I think I've made my point. Its your girlfriend or your brother, Dean. And personally, I hope you choose your little fuck bunny here. Because the things I'm gonna do to her...they make even me shiver. She's gonna scream, she's gonna cry... And if I don't have Sam within a week, she's gonna die." Gordon remarked, taking up his knife again, and pushing Riley off of him, he held her down on the bed, to hit her in the head, repeatedly, with the butt of his knife.

"No!" Dean cried, seeing Riley's body motionless, and bloody. Gordon grinned, slinging her over his shoulder.

"I'll see you later, Dean. Wave goodbye, princess," Gordon said, taking hold of her tied-up wrists to make her wave goodbye.

"No! Let her go!" Dean roared, at Gordon's back as he disappeared through the backdoor. "Riley!"

No sooner than the door slammed closed did it open back up again. This time it revealed a tangled red head holding a gun.

Dean was frozen for a moment, totally and completely unable to move a single muscle from the shock. He could _see_ and _hear _what Blaise was saying, but I couldn't respond.

When Sam walked in a few seconds later he knew he had to snap out of it. Riley needs me…


	6. Chapter 6

**Moon Shine**

**All thanks to SuzSinger. Thanks for writing this literary suspense, darling. **

**Also, Suz and I are getting married! I know, it's amazing. **

* * *

><p><strong>Riley<strong>

I felt a pounding in my head that I couldn't place. What happened?

_I went out with Dean and we humped like bunnies, but what happened after that? Probably something important…_

A door slammed. I opened my eyes but saw no light. _Blindfolded, maybe? _

I stayed still and whoever it was moved my leg. "Wakey, wakey, Riley."

I moved my head in the direction of the voice, tensely. I could tell the voice wasn't white nor Asian. _Maybe black? _

"Who are you?"

I heard a rush of air, probably escaping through nostrils. "My name is Gordon and you're my leverage."

**Back to Dean**

"Get your shit! We're leaving to find her!" Dean hastily dressed, not caring what he was wearing. He went out to the Impala, grabbing his duffel only to return to the motel room the other's stayed in. He threw everything in one bag, not caring who's belonging went where.

"Dean!" Sam's voice came from the doorway, "Will you tell us what happened, already?"

"Gordon." Dean said as he picked up a pack of cigarettes and threw them in the trash, "Gordon has Riley and I have to save her!"

A red blur made its way past the brothers as she picked the cancer sticks box from the waste bin. "Why would some one want Riley?"

Dean looked up, avoiding Sam's eyes and shrugging his shoulders. "It doesn't matter. We have to get her back. No matter what."

Blaise seemed to accept this for now, her neck tensing as she dug the cigarettes from the trash with a jerk and grabbed her keys from the desk in one swift movement before quickly heading out the door. "Fuckin' A!"

Dean followed Blaise to see that the tires of his baby had been completely slashed. _This morning could not get any worse. _

_That would be funny is this morning didn't suck so much, _Blaise thought as she unlocked the door to her car. She hadn't even paused her gate, simply ignoring the irate Dean Winchester. "Hey, Drama Queen! Get in my car and shut the fuck up! We're finding Riley!"

By then Addie was up and clued in enough to know what seemed to be happening, making her way towards the Camaro.

"Oh, no! Riley would kill me. Get your skinny little ass back inside, salt the doors and windows and shut up!" Blaise popped the trunk, pulling out weapons and loading down with more arsenal than ever before. "Winchesters! Hurry your pretty little asses up!"

_And that's all she wrote. Literally._

You see, Riley, it's nothing personal. It's actually just about your little boyfriend and his brother. You see, Sam's not as human as he seems...it's not his fault, really. A sweet boy. But he still has demon blood flowing through his veins. And he must die for it," Gordon remarked, his hands slowly untying the blindfold from around Riley's eyes.

Riley glowered at the dark-skinned hunter. "I know how he is, _Gordon_," she spat. "But it really isn't your choice!" She said, furious at the words that insulted her friend. "Plus," She said, smiling lazily, as if triumphant. "There's no way Dean would ever risk Sam for me. He'll never give in to you, Gordon."

Gordon only smirked in reply. "But he _will_ come for you. That's all I need." He replied.

The confidence in Riley didn't waver for even a second. That was one thing about her- she was a master at bluffing. Even though she quaked inside, for herself, and for her friends- it would never show. "He won't," She insisted, with a self-assured smirk.

This irritated Gordon. He wanted to see fear. Desperation. Anything but this. He smashed his fist straight into the blonde's nose, and was rewarded with a sickening crack and spurt of blood. She let out a small noise of pain, but otherwise the pain didn't register on Riley's face.

Gordon had to give her a little bit of respect. A hunter made out of the hardest stuff. But that wouldn't deter him from what he had to do. Blood ran from her nose, down her face and was dripping down her neck now. "You better hope that he does, darlin'. If he doesn't come for you within a week, let's just say you'll be pushing up daisies," He growled, trying not to lose control of himself.

"You think I'm afraid of you? You've got another thing coming," Riley retorted, her voice guttural, pressing her hands to her nose.

"Darlin', don't make this personal. I already promised to kill you. Don't make me add torture and other unmentionables to the list," Gordon warned. Riley sneered.

"Doesn't scare me, you miserable bastard. I'm a hunter. I'm prepared to die in pain," She responded, her blue eyes narrowed at the man.

Gordon's lip spread, showing his teeth- but it wasn't a smile. "That's right. Dying peacefully is a luxury our kind is seldom awarded. Why should you go out any differently?" Gordon told her.

"Or you?" Riley said in reply, the same sort of grimace/smirk settling on her lips.

"Or me," Gordon repeated, solemnly.

"But that doesn't change a thing, does it? Maybe you should just go ahead and do it. Kill me now, Gordon. Why bother to drag it out?" Riley suggested, staring at some point in space behind Gordon's head.

"Maybe I should." Gordon replied. "I don't think I will, though. Waiting is the best part of the game, remember?" he continued.

"I can't wait to see my friends put a bullet in your head." Riley growled.

Gordon cocked his head to the side. "Why, Riley, I'd almost say you want me to kill you," he said in a mocking tone.

Riley glared. "Bite me," she retorted.

Gordon smirked. "Don't mind if I do," he replied, bending down to bite down where her neck met her shoulders, with all the force he had- eliciting a moan of pain and blood gushing into his mouth. **(A/N: Gordon is NOT a vampire yet. Just a huge bastard)** He drew away, spitting the blood on the floor. "Don't make invitations you don't intend to keep," Gordon warned, wiping his mouth.

Riley groaned, her body shivering in pain. Blood soaked through the shirt that belonged to Dean. It took her a moment, but she retook her composure, her eyes murderous as she lifted them to Gordon. She didn't speak, but spit a watery concoction of blood right into Gordon's face.

He snapped. It was like a feral animal had been released inside of him. Without a thought, he was on top of her, his fists raining down like the hail that pounded outside the room. A shrill scream escaped Riley's lips at the beginning, but as the beating went on, all she could do was whimper, and try to shield herself from more pain.

Just as suddenly as it started, it stopped. Gordon found himself again, and he moved away. She didn't move, seeming barely conscious, laying in a pool of her own blood, her face near unrecognizable after being smashed in by Gordon's fists, and her body beginning to swell and turn sickening shades of purple and green from the rest of the beating.

She lay quietly for awhile, panting and coughing, oh, and bleeding. It was a long time before she sat up, and tried to wipe bloody, sweat-soaked hair from her face with broken and lacerated fingers. Riley tried to stand, but ended up on the ground again- her knees had given out beneath her.

All this, Gordon watched with little to no expression. He stood, drawing his knife. Riley flinched at the very sight, her left eye beginning to swell up- looking bulbous and scarlet red. "Believe it or not, darlin', you're going to thank me for this," he started slowly, before raising the knife, and breaking the butt of it down hard, cracking it against her skull.

Riley went out like a light, cracking her head back against the floor. For a moment, Gordon wondered whether he might have permanently damaged her with all the abuse to her head. He shook his head, dismissively. It really wouldn't matter, if it came to the end of the week and he didn't have Sam. "Time to make arrangements, darlin'," he spoke, nudging her with his boot.

Even in her unconscious state, Riley flinched away from the touch, probably from the bruised or worse ribs. Gordon drew out his phone, and dialed a number he'd memorized from his time in jail.

_"Hello?" _A gruff voice asked.

"It's Gordon. Have I ever got a present for you,"

**Later**

When Riley came to, her head throbbed unbearably- not that the rest of her body was much better, but the agony in her brain far outweighed the pain of her body.

She pressed her hands to her head, letting out a moan of pain. "I've been wondering when you'd wake up." A gruff, male voice asked.

Her eyes shot open, finding an old man with a scruffy beard sitting in a chair next to the bed. "I think Gordon hit you too hard. It's been 3 days since he handed you off to me," the man went on.

"I think you'd be right... Who the hell are you?" She growled, sitting up. Her whole body screamed in pain, and Riley fell back against the pillows.

The old man grinned. "I'm Gordon's old cellmate. Robert," he answered.

"Where's Gordon?" She questioned.

Robert grinned wider. "He didn't trust himself not to kill you before the next 3 days are up. And I'm very hard to rile up, so here we are," he explained.

"Let me guess. Unless he calls you at the end of those three days, you're putting a bullet in my head," Riley muttered, angrily, still cradling her head. She was finding a lot of stuff hard to remember- like why she was kidnapped by Gordon. There were a lot of blank spots in Riley's memory, that she knew hadn't been there before.

"Right-o. Gordon told me you were smart," Robert replied.

Riley scowled. "And if you were, my hands wouldn't be free,"

Robert laughed. "Let me know when you can move without yelling in pain, and then I'll tie you up," he retorted. He was right. She was absolutely helpless, and she hated it.

Robert stood, climbing onto the bed. Riley tried to move away, no matter how much it hurt, but she was too slow. Robert climbed atop her, straddling her, his grin growing wide and sickening. She beat, weakly, at him, but he just grinned, reaching forward to unbutton Dean's bloodstained shirt. It was one of the two things Riley was wearing. Her mind clouded, as a spasm exploded in her brain, and Riley moaned in pain, and barely noticed as Robert pushed the shirt off her shoulders, leaving her shivering and in pain, wearing only a pair of flimsy panties.

**Meanwhile- (actually 2 days ago) **

**Dean's POV**

I slammed my fist into the wall, yelling with frustration. It'd been 2 days since Gordon had kidnapped Riley. We hadn't found a damn thing, and she had only 5 days left before Gordon killed her.

For someone who wanted me to find him, he was playing pretty damn hard to get. "Damn it, Dean, calm down!" Blaise shrieked, pulling me away from the wall.

"Oh shut up, Blaise! We haven't heard or found a fucking thing, it's been 2 days! Not to mention Addie's been alone at that hotel for as long!" I swore, worriedly.

Honestly, the kid had grown on me, as long as she wasn't trying to separate me and Riley.

"No, she's not. I called Aaron. He picked Addie up the same day we left. He also towed the Impala and Riley's hummer back to his place. He's having the tires taken care of," Blaise told me, slowly, calmly, and I took a deep breath.

"Good," I sighed, heavily.

Sam's phone went off in the bathroom. Two seconds later, Sam came out, shaking slightly. "You need to see this," he said, holding his phone out to me.

It was a picture message, and I squinted at it, trying to figure out what was on the screen. My eyes widened. It was a beaten, bloody, broken woman laying on the ground in a pool of her own blood. Her face was unrecognizable, her face was so smashed in, so **broken**. I would never have recognized her if it wasn't for the blood-matted, golden blonde hair. **Riley.**

I gasped, my eyes widening, before my knees buckled underneath me, and I crashed to the ground in shock.

"Dean!" Blaise and Sam cried.

"Oops. I lost my temper. She has quite the sharp tongue, doesn't she? 5 days and counting. In the meantime I'm lending her out to my buddies," I read out loud, from the message underneath.


End file.
